West Virginia Democrat. [volume] (Charles Town, W. Va.) 1885-1890, 1887-12-09
A KICKER.
The High Art of Modest Member of
Company Entertaining Chicago'
Chicago Tribune.


Chicago Tribune.
This is the story Of little girl.
Her name is Sara. She is q modest,
unassuming, slender, blonde haired,
blue eyed little thing, The daughter
of country curate in England, a
prim, aesthetic gentleman of high
church tendencies. Her father had
big family, and when Sara was
very little she thought she would
like to GO to London and earn her
own living. She went to London.
and pretty soon her father heard
that Sara had gone play acting.
The good man was Mortified, and af-
ter vainly trying to wean her back
to the paths of rectitude and the po-
sition of IA nursery governess at flO
year, solemnly communicated
her. By and by he heard that Sara
was earning ESQ week as a high
kicker in the Royal Alhambra in
London. His heart yearned for his
erring daughter, aud Sara was once
more reconciled with her family.
All this happened many years ago
NOT very many, but just as many
as Sara would like to have told in
cold print-and since then Sara has
earned her bread by the height of
her kick. Sara is the highest fe-
male kicker on earth, and she does
not care who knows it. She kicked
herself $3.50 week for 10 years.
She can kick two feet higher than
her head. She can kick hole in
the top of the scenery on any stage
in town. She kicked staid as
sembly of German matrons at the
Criterion matinee yesterday after
noon into temporary delirium.
Those pious people in Boston said
she kicked so high that she kicked
a hole in the Ten Commandments
every time, and when Sara saw that
in the papers she at once kicked for
a higher salary. But it wasn't true,
for Sara is modest kicker. She is
not suggestive kicker; she is
gymnast. She is as modest little
little girl as ever stood on her head
or cancanned herself for the amuse
ment of bald headed band of spec
tators. She is an aspiring artistic.
In the practice of the art she has
reached heights hitherto unattaina-
BILE. She is an exponent of high art
art foot higher tHaa anybody
else's.
There was dance by the corpse
de ballet, then a preliminary blarc
of trumpets, a moments silence, and
Sara. 1t was a rush and a fash
and a vision of black legs and black
gauze and diamonds. She bounds
in like FREELY and whirls around
the stage like autumn leaves in
cyclone. Her feet shoot around in
circles, her arms, head and body
spin around in wild delirium. You
would think-if you had time to
think-that she was going to kick
herself into fragments and spatter
the show with her remains. Pres
emily her little slippered foot as
cends with lightning-like velocity
and strikes point a long way
above her flying hair, then whirls
around and gyrates about her
shoulders and comes down again
then up and around as before. She
is apparently made up of rubber
and whalebone; her kicking is as
the revolutions of hy-wheel or a
buzz saw with a full head of steam
on: she throws her feet around her
neck and kicks herself in the back
of the head She is an acrobatic imp
Of darkness. Her dancing is sud
den tempest, an outburst ofreckless
passion, a giddying flash. And,
most delightful wathal. 1t is not
what chestnut venders call the poet
ry of motion; it is hardly even
graceful. A cyclone is not graceful.
Sara is terpsichorean cyclone.
And the peculiar think of 1t is that
the strictest moralist might watch
her performance and never turn a
hair.